Two More Lonely People
by NileyLover1992
Summary: She's the opinionated big city emotionally abandoned from the people closest to her, dealing with the pressures of normal teenage life. He's a rock star detached from reality that the people closest to him don't even want to know him. What happens when their paths cross in ways only Tim Burton could think of? Niley. ON HIATUS
1. Where are my boobs?

**Sooo, new story. Really excited about this one! (As always). It's based on a dream I had, briefly. It's like 30% my dream, 10% Hannah Montana movie, 20% this story I read on Wattpad(It's really different so I haven't stolen anything, there's just a few elements of that story that I liked - I swear!) The other 40% you will guess after reading this chapter. **

**Also, some characteristics and opinions might be similar to some of my other stories so you might find them familiar.**

**Isla = Amanda Bynes**

**Tahlia = JoJo(the singer)**

**Coley = Abigail Breslin**

**Jared = Jared Followill**

**Also, Miley's hair is not as it is now. The pic attached to this story is how I envisioned her. Kinda. **

**PS - talking is **normal font**, text is** _italics,_** email is bold and tweeting is _bold italics. _Any others, I will add later.**

You ever get those moments where you'd rather just be anywhere else than where you are at that exact minute in time? I have, in fact throughout this whole year I've had many of them.

Growing up in a big family and being the least egotistical can do that to a person. So, I'm a nerd. Well I'm not but everyone thinks I am. Because I enjoy school and don't bleach my hair until it's falling out onto my pillow. Because I don't hide my face under twenty layers of make up and because I have opinions that other people don't understand, whether they choose not to or are simply too dumb to see past themselves is the part I still haven't figured out yet.

So... my sister, she's engaged. She got engaged on Christmas Day last year and everyone was so happy for her. Including myself, she's my sister and I don't want anything bad to happen to her but she's also the favorite child. Not that I have a problem with that, I like being in the background most of the time, when I get perfect grades or do something that I've worked so hard for, I should get a little attention.

My achievements should be celebrated too, right?

Well, they're not. I do something amazing and I don't even get a "well done Miley, I know you worked so hard, we're proud of you". I get a "that's nice" and then ignored for the rest of the day. My sister Isla, is the golden child. She's the oldest girl, I'm the middle child.

My brother Holden just stays out of it, he's the oldest child, six years older than me and also a golden child. Star quarterback all through high school and he got a scholarship to college. Mommy and Daddy were so very proud.

Then came Princess Isla, four years older than me physically, ten years younger mentally, she legitimately thought she was a princess until she was thirteen, she's a shallow, conceited barbie wannabe. You know, one of those girls that is an unofficial member of a debutant society and all that crap. Basically Paris Hilton but without the dog, or the money if I'm honest.

Tahlia was next, she's two years older than me and we actually get along pretty well, she let's Isla do her thing and stands in the background. I think we all do that to some extent. Tahlia's the smart one, even smarter than me. I think that's why my parents don't acknowledge me, they've seen it all before and it's old news now if I come in with a sheet full of A* grades, because Tahlia's done it all before. Tahlia's pretty quiet though, bookworm at heart.

Then I came along, boring old me. Not some star sports player, not some Malibu Barbie wannabe, not the bookworm, just plain old Miley. I'm not completely boring obviously. To my family I am, to me I'm freaking hilarious and opinionated and a well-rounded young lady. It also doesn't help that I'm a genius. Not really, I just pay attention at school. I get good grades, I'm the smart kid, I'm the do-gooder and whatnot. And sometimes, if I had the guts to piss my dad off, I was the rebellious one. You know, staying out after curfew, drinking a little, befriending musicians and biker dudes. It was for attention and then those guys were actually pretty cool and now they're like my best friends.

Coley, my baby sister or as I like to call her - Satan! The youngest, the baby of the family.

Mommy's little angel. Gag me with a spoon!

She is literally Hitler reincarnated. An evil little madam.

I know I shouldn't dislike my sisters, I try not to but it does bug me that Isla and Coley get ALL the attention, Tahlia and I are like two wallflowers in the background. Like thirty seconds of attention is all I ask every once in a while, I would be better off not even being here because I go unnoticed anyway.

So basically, the reason why I'd rather be lying on a beach in Hawaii, letting all my troubles wash away is because Isla, the twenty two year old Kardashian wannabe, has decided that she will stop whoring herself around and get engaged. Now that's fine, I have nothing against Jared, he's a nice guy or at least he used to be, you know... when I was sleeping with him. But it's the point that this whole engagement means more attention being focused on Isla and she will make sure it is.

So by now, on April 7th 2012, the final countdown to the wedding has started. Just three weeks to go and already this wedding has ruined my life. I can't sit down to do my homework or talk to my friends on Facebook or Twitter because her eight bridesmaids are always at my house, talking about the wedding or how beautiful Isla will look. Her friends are all as shallow as she is.

Like no depth whatsoever. What a horrible existance to have, constantly thinking of yourself. A selfish, vain person. I could never be like that. I hate talking about myself. I have no idea how celebrities do it. Like, you can cry on demand and you can hold a note now fuck off. Celebrities are so full of self-praise, they just love to celebrate themselves.

I know I sound really jealous, I'm not. Except for the obvious little glitches of attention that I want. But I'm not so jealous that I want to sabotage anything or ruin my sister's life. I'm just feeling a little underappreciated and frustrated.

Hawaii sounds pretty good right now, at least I'd be out of Atlanta. For a while at least. Even California. I could go there. I'd have nowhere to stay and no money to live on but I'd sleep on a beach and eat snails or something. If the french can do it then so... well actually I couldn't do THAT. I almost tried before and backed out at the very last second. It was not a situation I wish to repeat.

I wish, I just wish I was outta this place. But I can't be of course, because Isla needs me as her eleventh bridesmaid. Yawn. I'm so over this wedding, the sooner she gets married, the sooner she moves out permanently and the sooner I get peace and quiet. Speaking of peace and quiet, why is there no arguing happening right now?

There's always arguing when I'm half sleeping in the morning. Normally because Isla wants the bathroom and Coley is normally in there reading a magazine just to piss everyone off. It's hilarious as long as it isn't happening to me.

"Hey you, get up! You slept in!", I hear the woman's voice as I turn my head the other direction on my pillow. Okay they normally scream at each other not come in and wake me out of a 90% sleep to shout at me. It's far too early to be awake and that damn sun is shining through the window and I'm being blinded. I am not a morning person. How long have I been sleeping? Like an hour?

Since when has my window been on my left?

Wait, who is this woman in my room? That's not my mom. My mom goes to work overnight, what the hell is going on?

"Nick, get out of bed, you have class in fifteen minutes and then rehearsals until noon. You have to get up!", the woman comes over and pulls the sheets from me.

"Hey, what the hell is going on? Who are you?", I ask finally opening my eyes and looking at the woman. Early thirties, copper colored hair and a full face of make up. Who the hell is she? Whose room is this? Where the hell am I?

"Are you drunk again? What did your mother tell you about your behavior? Did the paparazzi see you?", she scolds me and I'm literally speechless, what the fuck is going on? My mother didn't tell me anything about my behavior. Has she been let out of a mental institution? Is she drunk?

She keeps talking as I try and think what the hell is going on.

"Listen lady, I don't know what the hell is going on but I need five minutes to myself. Where the hell am I?", I shout at her and she looks taken aback.

"In your bedroom, are you sick?",

"I think I might be. This isn't my bedroom. What's going on?",

"I have no idea what you're talking about but if this is another plan for you to get out of class then you can think again!",

"Listen Ma'am, I am not planning anything, I have no idea what's going on and I would appreciate it if you left the room and stopped whining like a bitch in my ear", I finally shout at her and she looks taken aback before walking back out of the room. I look around me, those aren't my hands. Where's my hair? Where are my boobs? I worked so hard to get them to grow and now they're gone.

Okay what the fuck is going on?

I climb out of the bed, the bed I don't know in the bedroom that I don't know and stumble into the en suite.

OH HOLY GOOD MOTHER OF FUCKING JESUS HOLY CHRIST IN HEAVEN ABOVE WHAT THE FUCK?!

Nick Jonas.

Staring back at me in the mirror is Nick Fucking Jonas. Me? Nick Jonas? Please tell me I'm dreaming. This is a terrible, terrible nightmare.

Why has my mind taken over the body of Nick 'Sex God' Jonas? Nick Jonas is like my... well you know that celebrity crush that you're completely in love with? That you completely fangirl over? Yeah, that's what Nick Jonas is to me. Teen heart throb.

Am I Nick Jonas? I have to be drunk right now.


	2. Get out of the closet!

**This is a little rushed but I just needed to get it uploaded!**

**Enjoy :)**

"What the hell has happened to me?", I mumble to myself staring at the mirror. And Nick Jonas has that sexy, raspy morning voice that I go weak at the knees for. If I wasn't him right now I'd have butterflies at hearing that beautiful croaky voice.

Am I crazy? Have I officially lost my mind? This is Coley's fault if I have, I can just feel it, she has something to do with it. Evil little demon child.

I can't believe I'm Nick Jonas. Like, Nick Jonas. Hollywood's biggest bad boy. I'm him! This is crazy. Too crazy. I think I've seriously lost my mind. I've only ever heard about this in movies, waking up in someone else's body, that's so weird, I didn't know it could happen in real life. Because it can't... but it happened to me so what the fuck?

Just as I feel like I'm about to start pinching myself I hear Nirvana blearing from the phone beside the bed.

"Hello?",

"Hello? Hi. Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?", he shouts down the phone at me but all I hear is my own voice. This is too creepy.

Hearing my own voice screaming at me down the phone is not as comoforting as I thought it might be. So at least I know it's just the two of us involved, there's not ninety other people who've all switched bodies and we have to find out who has our body. That's like a terrible game of Russian Roulette. Not a game I wish to play. Ever.

"I have no idea. I'm freaking out. I'm trying to put pieces together and figure it out but I'm too shocked",

"Yeah me too Milly",

"It's Miley. How do you know my name?",

"You have certificates on your walls and school books on your desk. Your name isn't exactly top secret",

"Could you be any more condescending?",

"Yeah I could. But I have bigger things to think about right now",

"You mean 'we' have bigger things to think about?",

"Yeah that. So what are we going to do? Where the hell am I?",

"Atlanta, never mind that, how are we going to fix this?",

"Why the fuck am I in Atlanta? What the hell did you do? Are you some kind of witch? I need my body. I'm going tour in a month!",

"Yeah I know I have tickets to go. Why am I getting the blame of this? I'm not enjoying this either. I need my own body back, I have a wedding to go to in three weeks!",

"Well we need to work something out. I have things that I have to do that you couldn't possibly do. I need my body!",

"Yeah, well... ditto! I have studying to do, I have thing I need to do too. We have to sort this out. Can't I just lift a hundred dollars from your millions of dollars and get a flight there?",

"No. Are you an idiot? Paparazzi follow my every move, you couldn't cope with that. Besides I work and live in LA, I work seven days a week I can't just get up and go when I feel like it to some butthole town in Georgia. Besides that, my dad looks after my finances and we haven't got a good enough reason to get a flight here unless you want to be sent to a mental hospital for telling him the truth!",

"This is so frustrating. How are we going to fix this?", I groan and flop myself down onto the comfy king size bed. If I wasn't so stressed then this bed would be perfect for a hangover day.

"Nevermind that, how did we get like this in the first place? What's the last thing you remember?",

"Uhm, well I was sleeping, and I remember thinking to myself, God I wish I was in Nick Jonas' body when I wake up! I don't fucking know. Wait... Hawaii! I remember wishing I was somewhere else but where I actually was. Hawaii was an example".

"Then that's it, I was in bed last night wishing I was anywhere else and not wanting to be myself. It must've happened then",

"What exactly is 'it', that still doesn't explain why we're like this", I grumble as I start to pat my stomach, nervous habit. Except this time, it's not my stomach, it's a hard, broad stomach. I can feel the refined lines of his abs through the white t-shirt.

"I don't know, something weird. That's the only thing that can explain it",

"That doesn't tell us how we can fix it",

"Maybe it's like Freaky Friday, maybe it only lasts a day",

"And if it doesn't?",

"Then I don't know",

"Wow, great job there Nick Jonas!",

"How are you not starstruck?", he chirps cockily and I'm literally about to bang my head off a wall. Can he not just concentrate for like, two minutes?

"I think I would be if I was meeting you, not being you", I mumble and I hear him chuckle.

"Those are some nice bras",

"GET OUT OF MY CLOSET!", I screech and he laughs even more. Damn it!

"Could you have any more clothes? Your closet is huge",

"Yes I could now could you concentrate, we need to find a way to meet up and switch bodies",

"Sweetheart, I think we should just give it a day and see if we switch back. Until then just lay low, don't speak to anyone and if you have to, just give vague answers until we can work this out. I don't really speak to many people there anyway", I hear him chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"That's rude. Nick, what if we don't change back? What if I'm still you tomorrow?",

"Then I need to work out a way to deal with your mom, Princess Isla and Satan or I'm screwed",

"What? How do you know who they are? Are you reading my diary?",

"It was on your desk, it was teasing me",

"Don't read my diary. That's personal",

"Babe, I think we're way past personal. Nice boobs by the way",

"Oh My God, stop being a jerk! Don't look at my diary and don't look at my boobs, or any part of my body",

"Sweetheart, calm down. How else am I going to shower?",

"You're not taking this dilemma seriously. We are trapped in each other's bodies. How do we get out of this? I have school in two days, I have a wedding in three weeks and I have boobs that took five years to grow that I'd really like back!",

"You're getting married?", he asks and I groan before hanging up the phone. Does he not understand that this is serious?


End file.
